The Argosy — page 193: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

176 Winifred Power. And, because she was incomprehensible, she was, on the whole, more feared than thoroughly pitied. Her pride, combined with her deadly poverty, made the weak-minded a little resentful of her; and she sometimes excited the evil fear of the malignant by sudden flashes of clear perception and brief assertions of principle. Her usual manner half frightened and very depressed, gave place at moments to a pathetic excitability. Something in her, long repressed, seemed at times to rise in revolt against her sad and anguished life, and sting her into a feverish and short-lived activity. By profession she was a copyist of pictures: very humbly and devotedly she trod in the track of great departed artists, and seemed, for the most part, quite devoid of any personal ambition. But every now and again she appeared possessed by an evanescent desire to achieve something greater ; and while this fit lasted she was wont to make sketches of original paintings, and exhibit them for approval to her fellow-workers in the gallery. It was the favourite amusement of some mocking, ill-natured spirits extravagantly to praise these attempts, and nothing could be more touching than the expression with which Mademoiselle Marthe would listen to their words. Gratitude, unwilling doubt, the longing to believe, the desire to love, the sad, sad secret-sense of artistic in- capacity struggled for mastery in her half-childlike, ever-questioning, and wholly mournful eyes. One day in the gallery, Winifred being present, Mademoiselle Marthe had been made, as usual, the butt of the rest. Marie Duchéne, the terror of everybody for her cruel tongue, Clara Smythe, an underbred English girl, and half a dozen others had gathered in front of the sketch, and were exalting it in their usual style. ‘“C’est épatant,” declared Marie, in mock rapture. ‘¢ Too lovely,” added Clara. | ‘“ Took at the grouping !” ‘* The expression!” ‘‘ Ce coloris!” ‘The feeling !” Thus ran the chorus, accompanied by motions and gestures. Wini- fred, her back turned to them all, went on painting in silent in- dignation. Presently, when the victim had gone away, Marie mockingly began upon her. ‘Notre chere Winifred! Does such genius render her jealous, or simply strike her dumb?” A general laugh greeted this. Winifred turned. ‘‘I think you should all be ashamed of your- selves,” she said, quietly, but her blue eyes flashed like a sword in the sun. There was a pause of amazement. ‘ Well, to be sure!” exclaimed Clara, with a toss of her head. ‘Tiens! tiens !” murmured Marie, and made a grimace. ‘‘T am quite in earnest,” continued Winifred, unmoved. ‘I think you all behave disgracefully to that poor old woman. She is not very wise, but she is a gentle, unoffending little soul, who would Gomichbooksneom